Thought Process

Now, there’s a lot to take here. Everyone, the vibe the loud music and everyone working simultaneously on one thing or another works for a thing or two, works a paper with all the guidelines it’s set for, or addresses the emotional event that strikes her or him as appalling or eccentric.

If there’s anything lingering tonight, it’s the link. The link between what remains to be drawn in complete view of the fact which withstands to uphold a realm beyond reasonable doubt.

She was very quiet holding her grasp between her knees for a while, sustaining them there, until she began to sink into the feeling—that maybe she’s not getting what she had planned or expected, but is willing to roll with it as the rest of the evening has paid her dues for it may accost her unsettling feelings for.

A man wobbles, can a man wobble. He’s overweight, his feet dabbles across the granite floor.  The man’s wide, gorged arms swing from side to side almost caricature-like.

There’s a man at the corner of the room, both his arms crossed over the midsection of his stomach with a blank stare on his face.

They stand without anything to say eager to expect a belligerent feat.


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